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Boris Cho Nov 10
I’ve come to realize that the mind holds immense potential for healing, far more than we often acknowledge. Instead of searching for relief solely in external solutions, I’ve learned to turn inward, recognizing that the tools for managing pain, stress, and anxiety already exist within me. By consciously working with the mind and body, we can shift our experience of suffering and cultivate peace.

The breath is one of the most effective means of doing this. It serves as a direct link to the present, anchoring my awareness in the here and now. Through simple, controlled breathing, I can calm my nervous system and influence my subconscious mind. This process is not only about relaxation; it’s about retraining the mind to respond differently to stress and discomfort. With every mindful breath, I’ve gained a greater sense of control over my emotional and physical states.

Mindfulness is another critical practice. By observing my thoughts and emotions without immediately reacting to them, I’ve developed a new perspective on pain and stress. Rather than seeing these as threats to be resisted, I now view them as signals; indicators that something in me needs attention. Mindfulness allows me to approach these signals with curiosity and compassion, which can reduce their intensity and help me respond more thoughtfully.

In this process, meditation plays a key role. It gives me access to the deeper parts of my subconscious, where my past experiences and emotional patterns are stored. Through regular meditation, I’ve been able to reshape my responses to stress and pain, moving away from automatic reactions that increase suffering. Meditation has taught me that healing is a process of aligning the mind and body toward peace, not by force but through consistent, patient practice.

I no longer feel powerless in the face of external stressors. By focusing on my inner world; my thoughts, my breath, and my awareness; I’ve developed a sense of resilience that isn’t easily shaken by outside circumstances. Healing, I’ve learned, is an ongoing journey. Each day offers a new opportunity to practice these skills, to remind myself that while pain or anxiety may arise, I have the ability to transform how I experience them.



Each morning, I rise to greet the day,
Read words of wisdom, to light my way.
With visions clear, and actions aligned,
I center my soul, in peace I find.

Meditation whispers, “Be still, be strong,”
And in the silence, I belong.
Writing my truths, I set them free;
A life of growth, that belongs to me.

Afternoons slow, with a gentle breeze,
Books and thoughts, no need to please.
Turning off screens, I reclaim the hour,
In quiet moments, I find my power.

A podcast hums, a guiding sound,
New ideas grow, deep and profound.
As evening falls, I move and I breathe,
Walking the path where my heart is pleased.

With words once more, I let them flow,
A reflection of where I long to go.
In the stillness, I find my light,
And greet the peace that comes each night.

I promise to hold my routine with care,
To nourish my body, to breathe fresh air.
Move every day, let my muscles sing,
Phone set aside, to let nature ring.

Carry my camera, to capture the skies,
Saving each dollar, with mindful eyes.
Sober, present, embracing the new,
Writing forever, my heart’s truth in view.

In this journey, I grow and unfold,
A story of strength, resilience and bold.

— Sincerely, Boris
Suffocating beneath a tidal wave of feelings —
struggling to stay afloat, gasping for breath.

My lungs are heavy filled with so much water;
I may swallow my pride — but I can't hold
these tears anymore in my chest.
fish-sama Nov 5
Hating                                      happiness is              disgusting.
                         Seeing                           these  
yellow flowers                      bloom  
vibrantly                                     Sick  
breathing in           undeserved air as  
laughs                   slap our lungs dry.    
I know      
Every time I smile    
I do    
the world  
injustice.
I wish                                                                            to
cauterize my lips
shut
black with soot.
I do not deserve this.
Happiness
sometimes I talk to people and laugh a lot, and a few moments later I'm in the bathroom feeling like vomiting.
showyoulove Nov 3
For what can I give the Lord
Who has given me everything?
How can I ever make a return for
The blessings He bestows on me?
The day you paid my debt in full
Unworthy and ungracious as I was,
Beneath pride and nature sinful,
You pierced me with undying love.

You breathed and I came alive.
And when you died to give me life,
You breathed out once again.
Let every breath I take, praise you
Let my spirit sing, my lips speak truth,
Everything I do, I do it for you.
My work, my play, my rise, my sleep
In joy, in fear, when I laugh, when I weep
When I follow and when I lead
When I tend to someone's need
In little ways and in big ways
On good days and truly awful days.
When I live with Jesus on my mind
I see that, through it all, He is kind.
So, at the end of it all at His feet I will fall
And I will say to Jesus my Lord and King
I have given you my all in everything
Emery Feine Oct 29
do you hear the sizzle of my lungs
as they slowly burn to ashes?
my head is an anchor, weighing down
bringing me to the floor
i cannot breathe
i am aching
the doctor said i was fine
but the moment i left
and breathed in the poisonous fresh air
i wheezed
i could not breathe
my lungs were on fire
some people pretend im fine
but i see it in their eyes
how they’re pretending
some people avoid me
as to not get sick
to save their freezing lungs
the fire is spreading throughout my body
my face is red
my throat is burning
im fading out
my lungs are on fire
i cannot breathe.
this is my 130th poem, written on 10/28/24.
Selwyn A Oct 26
Whenever she opens her eyes, she writes poetry,
And with every breath, she pens dreams effortlessly.

Whenever she talks, the universe leans in to hear,
Whenever she thinks, she paints skies crystal clear.

Whenever she's near, my soul finds its beat,
Yet somehow, we're strangers, destined never to meet.
Melissa Starr Oct 10
With a hand motions to be quiet
Finger across lips to hush
That moment breath comes
God's breath in a whisper
To a baby
One breath to come
Not sure what led me to this, but I was fascinated with shush. And got creative with it.
Erwinism Oct 8
The sun was still cold in your breath,
half-awake still dreaming and we are way past that hour,
just waiting for the first light to break in and steal the dark away like a stereo.

The air was fetid,
reeking of sad news,
swirling about,
but we moseyed along carrying dustpans and brooms,
lugging garbage bags
like we were sanitation Santa,  sweeping cigarette butts,
and in them I saw burnt time,
and in them I see mounting bills.
The cold air was doing a number
on us, dumping its oblique
sorrow on our then ragged frame
as we emptied waste baskets.

At times when I utter the word doctor,
your eyes go creamy,
your ears wag,
perhaps I was doing an impression—
an echo
of a forgotten life.
People were still groggy on their cardboard beds, their lips wearing soot as they drooped down on the side of their faces, the night weighed heavy on them.
Unlike most sight that slide through and veer away from despair in the flesh, yours fell on them with flecks of your heart knowing that from them we are dimes apart.
We swept, but your broom was nimble, springing into life in those days. Out of nowhere your hope swung a fist. I always remembered those words like a promise and held on to them like a limb.
“Though the world may forget, don’t dare forget who you are.”
Jill Oct 4
Mimosa pudica retreat
Humid glasshouse, rainy day
Pane-separated from the world
Exhaling foggy vagueness
Colours run wet
World through window walls,
a distorted Monet reproduction
Morphing, mixing, mushy
Each canvas exists for a sliding second
Glass and breath
Collaborating through condensation
Our fuzzy-haze masterwork

Panoramic gossamer lens
Magically softens
spiky, scratchy, sharp, crispness
into a smudgy simulacrum
A kind deceit
Frowns, scowls, growls,
and bared-toothy rage,
all smeared
Gently redacted
Calm, dreamy, pillowscape broadcast
Impressionist buffer
In muted pastels

Reality in artful disguise
Remoulded for ease of consumption
Sugary spoonful of subterfuge
Sifting, sorting, selective
Incomplete and fragmentary
Blur-clouded brain-break
Intermittent extra distance
Breath-focused,
soupy-warm,
momentary masterpiece
Just for me
Until my leaves unfurl
©2024

BLT Webster’s Word of the Day challenge (gossamer) date 4th October 2024. Very light or delicate.

Mimosa pudica is a small shrub, often referred to as the Sensitive Plant, the Shameful Plant, or the Touch-me-not Plant. The leaves curl up when touched.
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